


Butler for a Month

by molly_seguin



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: AU, M/M, shane madej x ryan bergara, shyan, shyan fic, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:31:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molly_seguin/pseuds/molly_seguin
Summary: Ryan Bergara, now known as Ricky Goldsworth has been able to go about stealing money under the radar for more than two years. Shane Madej is the most decorated detective in California. When the advance in finding whose been stealing, they ask for his help. With an almost divine stroke of luck, they find an ad posted for a staff needed at Ricky Goldsworth's new estate.





	1. One

It took everything in him not to loosen the tie around his neck, or to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt. He hated how this felt, he just felt so…formal.  
But, butlers usually don’t wear a denim jacket and a t-shirt.  
He jumped when he heard a door open, straightening his posture. Despite having done this countless times, Shane felt a wave of unease go through him. He took a breath and got it out of his system. Now was not the time to fuck up.  
But he almost did. Over the stupidest thing nonetheless.  
Shane had never seen Ricky Goldsworth in person. So, when he walked down the lined of cowering maids, butlers, and cooks standing shorter than most of them, he couldn’t help but smile at the man.  
“Is there an issue?” He looked up at him, his tone was demanding.  
“No, Mr. Goldsworth.” Shane licked his lips and set his expression back. Ricky looked at him for a minute, as if he was trying to figure him out.  
“What’s your name?” He shot another glare.  
Shit. They had spent how long arguing over a name and now he forgets?  
“Banjo…” He began, having no clue where he was going with this. “McClintock. My name is Banjo McClintock.”  
Ricky stifled a laugh and continued to walk down the line of people. Shane sighed. This guy seemed like a dick. Judging someone by their name? Seriously? Granted, Banjo McClintock isn't normal, but still.  
After looking over the rest of his new staff, Ricky walked in front of all of them.  
“Now, understand one thing, here. I don’t know if you’ve done any of this kind of work before, but you answer to me and only me. No ‘Head of Staff’ or any of that bull. Clear?”  
“Crystal,” Shane spoke up. The girl next to him looked scared half to death. Looking over the rest of his new crew, they all matched hers. He looked straight again to see Ricky standing under his nose. Literally.  
“Next time I say something,” He spoke in a threatening but quiet tone. “I don’t answer.”  
“Sir, yes sir!” He gave a mock salute. Ricky raised his arm and backhanded Shane, making him step back. “Son of a-” The small, angry man walked away, Shane, rubbing his sore face turned to the girl next to him. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” He elbowed her side.  
“Dude, don’t you learn?” She whisper-shouted. Shane laughed.  
“McClintock, do I need to come over there again?” He heard that voice again.  
“Only if ya-” He started before the girl next to him stomped on his foot. He gave her a look, but she just kept looking forward. He decided not to talk this time and just listen to what the tiny man had to say.  
In and out of his thoughts, Shane heard bits of what he was saying. He assigned room numbers, told them where they can and cannot go. The time to wake up, and how they could only go to bed once their jobs were done.  
Why the hell would anyone choose this job willingly? There’s plenty of McDonald's’ to work at in Los Angeles, why here? He would be more than relieved when they’re finished investigating Goldsworth, that way he can go back to not wearing suits in California in summer every day.  
They were “not to be seen” why do they have to dress up? But he had to, he really had no choice.  
And plus the reward is a lot of cash.


	2. Chapter Two

It was about eight in the evening when he had finished all that stupid short man had ordered him to do.

Shane would be lying if he said he fully comprehended what this job would be. I mean who in this day and age still had maids and butlers? So he thought to do the dishes, ironing, that sort of stuff.

Was he expecting to be polishing silver, dusting bookshelves and staining banisters? No. Absolutely not.

It was a literal hell. He had always hated vacuuming, cleaning his room was the worst part of his week, not to mention cleaning Obi’s box. He had never even touched that stuff before and had to google how to use it. Which just resulted in him getting chastised by Ricky.

Yes, he was getting paid a good sum to do this case. Yes, he was getting paid by Ricky too, but he hated this.

But like a light at the end of the tunnel, Ricky had a meeting with Alexander Cortese, a name Shane had known for working with a money laundering scheme. If Ricky was meeting with him, surely there would something to push the case along.

This was the last bit of evidence needed until they could put Ricky away. They had matched the money stolen from separate locations across LA to the money Ricky has deposited into his account. Shane had thought that was evidence enough but he could easily bail himself out, so they wanted to get everything that they could to raise the bail as much as possible. Shane had hoped that this meeting will be all that it would take.

However, life is full of shit turns, as Cortese decided to change plans last minute. But at least Ricky was noticeably angry.

“What’s a matter, Mr. Ricky?” Shane commented as he set the empty glass down. 

“Excuse me?” He sounded taken aback. 

“You’re pissier than normal. Something happen or did you sit wrong on the stick up your ass?” Shane turned to him, trying his best to show no respect what so ever. When it looked like Ricky was about to fucking deck him, he let out a laugh.

“None of your damn business, McClintock. You got a table to finish setting.” He crossed his arms.

“I’ll set while you talk. We can work on your skills of teamwork and cooperation.” He walked into the kitchen to fetch the silverware and came right back. “I’m going to jump the wall and say that you’re pissy because that guy canceled the meeting.” He laid down the flatware, shining from the polishing he paid Sara to do for him.

“You’re supposed to be my houseworker, not my shrink.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. 

“I’m not shrinkin’, I’m just trying to fill empty words. For me, I either like the silence or hate it. Right now I’m hating it.” He said, fumbling with the napkin to make a swan out of it.

“Okay. Right now I like the silence.” He said. Just like that, it was quiet. But not for too long. 

“What in the hell are you doing to the napkin.” He walked over. 

“I was putting these away and wanted to learn how to make a swan, but I forgot.” Shane shrugged. 

“Just fold the napkin, McClintock,” Ricky said, unamused. “I want to eat.” 

“I mean I get the napkins if you were having company but it’s just you, why do you need cloth.” He stood back from the table carefully, squinting to make the napkin look somewhat like a swan. 

“I give you orders, you don’t ask questions.” He stood by the chair. 

“That’s cool but what’s wrong with paper napkins,” Ricky said nothing and just looked at the chair, and then back to him. Was he serious? He wanted him to pull the chair out for him?

“Your arms broken?” He said, looking down to the shorter man in disbelief. “I mean I get paying me to do house chores, but putting you in the chair? Would you like me to cut your steak too?” He couldn’t help but smile. This was the first time he served dinner, and more than likely the last. 

“Yes, actually. I want you to do that.” He commented, looking up to Ryan with as much force as a barge, like he was challenging him to fight with him more. 

“Fine, you big baby.” Shane walked to the kitchen and grabbed the plate. He remembered having to put this set of dishes away not even three hours ago.

He set the plate down and picked up the knife and fork and cut it into small bits. The knife making an ear piercing screech against the plate.

“There you go,” Shane said, moving the chair out with his foot the tiniest bit so Ryan can sit. “You want the asparagus cut, too?” He asked, looking smug. 

“No, you can go get me new silverware.” He remarked, looking at the steak like a teacher looking over homework. Shane shrugged and went off to where he usually eats with Sara and Brent and grabbed the thing of plasticware. When he came back he was greeted with being asked what took so long. He set down the plasticware and Ricky looked up to him unamused. Again. 

“Will you stop being a pain in my ass if I just talk to you?” He sighed.

“Let’s rock n’ roll.”


	3. Chapter Three

Four Years Ago

 

Ryan held the gun in a shaking hand as he stood in front of the building, hoping it wasn’t visible. It was simple, go into the bank, hold the gun, and get the money, right? That’s how it was in the movies.   
With a breath, he took strides to the door, trying not to fall as he couldn’t see well with the mask. He walked in and held up the gun, making sure people saw it. The clerk’s eyes widened as she reached for the gun.   
“Don’t!” He pointed at her, flicking the safety off. “I’ll shoot!” She nodded quickly and retracted her head.  
“Put your phones on the ground!” This time he was talking to everyone. He said it again, louder and more threatening. He took the gun and motioned to the ground. Slowly, they all walked to the floor and set cell phones and the bank’s phones there as well. He stomped on them until they broke.   
“Six thousand. Four hundred, two fifties, the rest in twenties. Now.” He aimed the gun back at the clerk. She got up and went to the machine, it took a minute as the bills spat out. He snatched it from her and aimed the gun at the patrons.   
“Whatever you have on you, now!” When no one moved, he shot at the ceiling. A woman screamed and walked up, handing him money. Two more people followed suit, and then a man walked up to him. He an inch or two taller than Ryan, and reached into his pocket to grab a pocket knife and went to stab him, getting his arm. Ryan turned back to him and shot him, sending him to the ground.   
He looked around to everyone else, they’re faces struck with horror. He went out of the building, shoving the cash he did get into his back pocket. He threw the gun into the garbage bin outside the bank. It didn’t matter. He stole it anyway.  
_  
It finally hit him as he sat in his apartment, watching the television. He was shaking and felt nauseous.   
“One dead after Bank Robbery.”   
He had just killed a man. He didn’t mean to. He had just panicked. He didn’t want to get stabbed, if he had gotten stabbed, he would’ve gotten caught.   
He got down on his knees, elbows resting against the couch.  
Ryan wasn’t raised by Carrie’s mom, but he had grown up with religion in his life. He was always taught there was a heaven and that there was a hell. That God would forgive you for your sins if you asked. But if Ryan couldn’t forgive himself, would God.   
He closed his eyes and prayed. Prayed for forgiveness, prayed for God to help him get off of this path.   
He would be kicked out of his apartment in a few days. His parents lived a few states away now, and he knew how humiliating it would be for him to come back on his hands and knees. His parents always believed in him, always telling people that “They’re Ryan was going places. That you’ll read his name in the headlines one day.   
Now he was broke with no job, no car, no girlfriend and no place to live.   
He knew his parents would take him in. Of course, they would. But his pride was in the way. All through life he wouldn’t let anything take down his pride. And Ryan Bergara was not going down like this.   
He got off his knees.   
He was also raised knowing that there was the Devil on the other side of the table from God. And that some people would go to him to get what they need.   
Ryan needed him right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, but next one is a long one. Like if you put chapter one and chapter two together. Love ya~


	4. Chapter Four

Shane pulled a chair out and sat on it backward, Ricky always thought he looked like the type to do that.

“So what’s bothering Ricky Goldsworth today?” He smirked. Ryan rolled his eyes. “I know it’s the meeting with that Alexander guy, but really, it can’t be that big of a deal.”

Ryan finished chewing and looked up to the taller man, resting his fork on the side of the plate.

“It really is. He keeps putting it off and putting me in deeper shit.” Banjo nodded slowly like he was some kind of shrink.

“Is that so… How does it put you into deeper shit?” His head tilted when he talked. Ricky gave a sarcastic laugh.

“No. I’m not getting into this with you. You’re a housekeeper, not my confidant. I’m not telling you all this.” He rolled his eyes again. He felt as if they’d be sore by the time this loaf’s gone.

“Well, I recall our deal was that you would talk to me and then I would leave you alone for the night,” He shook his finger like a scolding mother. “Now please, continue.” Ricky stopped for a moment before narrowing his eyes at the man.

“Why are you so persistent,” He looked him up and down. “Are you wired? Are you trying to get me to talk?” He jumped up from his chair, worry on his face. Shane laughed.

“No, why? Just trying to make you a little more likable. You’ll be less pissy if you talk,” He leaned forward in the chair and lowered his voice. “Is there something you know worth tapping?” Ricky just glared at the man, not saying anything.

He had already said something damning. This man could quit his job and say something that might start an investigation on him and take down all he’s worked for. If he tells everything, then Banjo could tell the authorities about well, everything. But he could use it to his advantage.

“I’ll tell you but your not going to say a word after this.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

“For my protection.” Ricky pulled the napkin up from his lap and a pen from his pocket. “I want you to sign this.” He tossed the pen and the napkin his way. “This signifies that is you tell anyone, you won’t live to finish telling.” Shane laughed.

“You’re so clichè.” He signed the napkin, tossing the cloth back over to him. “This isn’t Goodfellas. You don’t need to act all mob boss. You take yourself way too seriously.” Ricky ignored the comment and put the napkin in his pocket.

“I started by robbing banks and when I got enough money I made a deal with Cortese that placed me in his money laundering scheme. We meet every month to talk about how we’re going to move forward, but this is the third time in a row he’s ditched, so I’ve been walking blindfolded with this whole thing.” He stopped talking to look at his housekeeper, who looked like he was trying to keep a straight face. “What?” He snapped.

“It’s just-” He finally laughed. “You’re saying this like it’s some big secret. People could figure that out.”

“Will you just shut up and take me seriously!” Ricky shouted.

“I am, I am, but I could figure that out, and you made me sign this death napkin.”

“I’ll use that death napkin.” Shane let out a (wheeze) at the words and spoke.

“Yuh-huh.” Ricky opened his mouth like he was going to say something but decided against it. “So, you’re a big boy, metaphorically, why not just carry the scheme yourself?”

“‘Cause if I keep it going, the cops will realize that it’s not just him, and look more into me. I’m already on their radar.” He explained.

“Well, then why keep meeting with him?” He made this face. Ricky wasn’t quite sure what it meant. “Won’t that incriminate you more?” Ricky thought of his words, realizing that this was a one hundred percent valid point. “Maybe he’s throwing you under the bus?” It was quiet for a moment.

“Shit.” He said under his breath. They just sat there in silence for a moment. Shane wondering if he was doing his job right, or was just helping Ricky. The quiet was ruined when a glass fell off of the table, causing Ricky to scream and jump up. He looked at the broken glass on the floor with wide eyes and small pupils.

“wHAT is your issue?” Shane looked at him like he had lost it. 

“The..the glass idiot!” He pointed. “Did you not see it?”

“Yeah I saw it but I don’t get why you’re shitting your pants.” He tried not to laugh.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I did this. It’s my fault.” He ran his hands through his hair.

“You were like-just acting like some mob boss...how’d you become a five-year-old?”

“I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not going to die. Gravity’s not going to kill you.” Shane’s voice resembled that of a tired mom.

“You don’t get it!” He finally looked at Shane, he looked like a scared child. “He’s come to get me!”

“Who? Casper the Friendly Ghost?” Ricky rolled his eyes, again.

“No, the devil.”

Shane couldn’t help but laugh. He almost pissed his pants. Did he seriously just hear that? He looked at Ryan, whose face had gone red. “Why would the devil be coming for you. Did you sElL yoUr sOul?” He wiped a tear from his eyes.

“Yes…” Ricky answered softly. Shane literally lost it. This was it. He was going to die. This guy, thought that a glass falling over, was the devil, coming to claim his soul.

“Stop laughing, Banjo.” Shane laughed, even more, hearing him call him that. It took another minute, but he gained his composure again.

“You believe in that shit?” Shane quirked an eye. Ryan nodded.”Well, it’s not real.”

“How do you know?”

“How do you?” He countered. Ricky huffed and crossed his arms.

“Well,” He pointed to the glass. “How do you explain that?”

“Gravity.” He smirked. Ricky thought he looked stupid. “Okay...I’ll drop it. Are you going to finish your food? You took one bite.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” He said. Banjo stood and took the plate off the table. “What’re you doing?” He asked, not even thinking.

“....What you pay me to do. I’m your housekeeper.” He walked off into the kitchen, leaving him alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Shitty first chapter, I know, but it gets better. I was writing this in the hospital


End file.
